


my dearest love, i'm not done yet

by golden_tragedy



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Beta Read, Beta Wanted, Everyone Has Issues, How Do I Tag, M/M, just read it, there should be an archive warning for heavy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28953285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_tragedy/pseuds/golden_tragedy
Summary: "You love him more. I don't hold it against you.” he takes a few steps towards him, and then his eyes don’t burn anymore, it’s white hot anger coursing through his veins as he fists his hands. “But it fucking hurt, you know? That you lied right to my face for five fucking years."
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Cristiano Ronaldo, Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos, Lionel Messi/Cristiano Ronaldo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 22





	my dearest love, i'm not done yet

**Author's Note:**

> the formatting for this is really weird and i'm too tired to figure out why, please bear with it. also i need a beta for obvious reasons please send help

Cris tries not to get jealous. He really does. But he knows how Geri feels about Sergio.

And he finds it increasingly difficult to believe Gerard when he says 'I love you'.

By all accounts, it's an irrational feeling; but he sees the way Geri's eyes soften whenever he looks at Sergio.

He remembers the way they held hands during that one session in international season. They claimed it had been for the camera, and he believed them, but Gerard couldn't quite meet Cris's eyes that whole day.

The way Gerard never heard any whistles, and yet when it came to fucking Sergio Ramos, he was there, shaking his head and wagging his finger in disapproval.

The way he rushed towards Sergio, fists clenched to push that Iranian guy away from him during a World Cup match.

And the way he was a little slower to come when Dani Alves had kicked Cris in the gut with his cleats, those sharp metal spikes that broke skin and still hadn’t quite healed.

The wedding ring on his finger feels heavy.

He hasn't really seen Gerard in weeks. Sergio was grinning while he talked about going to lunch with him.

He knows Gerard isn't cheating. That is a fact.

But suddenly he's tired of cooking dinner for a guy who doesn't deign to come home.

So one day, halfway through making the spaghetti, he grabs a suitcase and starts shoving his clothes in.

He starts writing a letter to Geri when the front door opens. It closes slowly and he knows it's because Gerard saw his suitcases piled into a corner by the stairs.

He looks one last time into the mirror, makes himself a promise that he won't cry and goes downstairs.

"Hey Cris. Do you have a game? Sergio didn't say anything about an away game."

"That's because there isn't one," Cris replies shortly.

"Then–"

"I've seen the way you look at him Geri," he says, bending to grab his suitcases.

"Look at– what?"

"Sergio. You love him don't you?"

Gerard stares blankly at Cris, mouth parting.

"Love– love Sergio? Me?"

"Yes," Cris says, and swears quietly when his voice cracks. His suitcases feel heavy as he hoists them up. Gerard is staring at him, breathing harshly and yet he looks entirely resigned. As if he knew this was coming. 

"I won't– you can go to him now, Geri. I won't hold you back anymore."

Gerard shakes his head frantically.

"Cris, amor, don't say that, you know it's not like that!"

"Isn't it? I'm not your 'amor' and I never was." Cris snaps, blinking ferociously because he will not cry, he will not cry, _he will not cry. _"It's always been him."__

__"That's not fair–" Geri begins heatedly, taking a step forward. Cris laughs, and it is a dry, humourless sound._ _

__"Your fairplay award will be delivered to you shortly, Gerard Pique.” Then he walks up to him, until they’re almost nose to nose, and jabs a finger into his chest. “Don't talk to me about fair. You're in love with my best friend, I haven't had proper conversation with you in weeks and you see him everyday!"_ _

__"I'm sorry, I swear. But I never did anything with him. Please don't go. I'll be better, I swear, just– please."_ _

__"I'm not your safety net, Gerard. Just stop. Go be happy with him like I know you want to. Get that white picket fence house." Cris starts walking towards the door because if he stays a second longer he will not leave. He will let Geri make him maté in the kitchen and they will sit on the barstools and watch football matches and forget this ever happened._ _

__"Cris, please."_ _

__"The truck's coming to get my cars tomorrow. I bought those in my name so there shouldn't be an issue with that. You can have the house. I don't want to be here anymore.” His grip on the doorknob tightens “If any mail comes for me just forward it to my old place. I never want to hear from you again. Or Sergio. Tell him that for me." He opens the door._ _

__"Cris–" Gerard takes a step forward, opening his mouth and extending his hand like he might try to stop him. Like he might try and save five years together. Like he might laugh and explain that of course he doesn't love Sergio. He stops with his hand halfway out. Cris snorts as he looks at it._ _

__"Shut up, Gerard. The divorce lawyer's sending some papers over. Sign them."_ _

__"I'm sorry. I really do love you. It's just–"_ _

__"You love him more. I don't hold it against you.” he takes a few steps towards him, and then his eyes don’t burn anymore, it’s white hot anger coursing through his veins as he fists his hands. “But it fucking hurt, you know? That you lied right to my face for five fucking years."_ _

__"I'm sorry." Gerard seems closed off and unbothered but it’s been five fucking years and Cris knows Gerard like the back of his hand. He sees the way he can’t quite seem to hold Cris’s gaze and the way he too is blinking more often than is normal. He pretends he doesn’t see the way he keeps rubbing his eyes. But Gerard doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t even try to explain. And maybe that’s what damns their marriage. So Cris stands a little taller and exhales sharply._ _

__"I'm sure you are. I hope he's what you dreamed of."_ _

__He throws down the keys to the door onto the floor and slams the door behind him before getting into the Lamborghini. He keeps his head high until he's left the gate for the last time._ _

__He thought he would cry. He doesn’t. He’s just angry._ _

__But as he keeps driving, the events catch up with him. He just left Gerard. He left his husband, who he had been happily married to for five years in a heartbeat._ _

__Something in his chest hurts. He's glad to leave Gerard behind but it hurts so much that he almost turns back. Then he floors the accelerator through blurry vision. He can't go back. He can't. He's not a safety net. And he loves Gerard and Sergio enough to not stand in between them. But it also means he has nowhere to go. He told Gerard to send his mail to the old house. He didn't bother mentioning he sold it. He can’t exactly fly to any of his other houses in the middle of the season, so he pulls out his phone._ _

__He doesn't know whose number he dials until Sergio's "hello?" comes out._ _

__He hangs up._ _

__He dials another number, hand shaking so he can barely hold the phone up._ _

__"Hello?"_ _

__"Toni?" He sounds remarkably calm. But Toni’s always known him too well._ _

__"Are you okay?"_ _

__"Not necessarily.”_ _

__

__"Can you drive right now? Are you drunk?"_ _

__"No,"_ _

__"Okay. Do you need me to call Sergio?"_ _

__"No! Toni don’t call him."_ _

__"Alright, okay. Just come over to my house?" Toni's German accent starts poking through his Spanish, the way it always does when he's upset._ _

__"Okay." Cris cuts the phone, rolls the window down and drives to Toni's house with the ice cold wind biting at his skin._ _

__Toni meets him at the door, face pulled into a slightly worried scowl – the only other emotion Cris has ever seen on his face aside from annoyance and a small smile and he immediately tugs Cris into the lounge. Cris sits straight, hands pressed against his thighs, calmly telling Toni what happened. It almost feels as though he’s telling him about the latest twist in a TV show. It all feels detached. Not entirely a part of reality._ _

__Toni sighs, but he doesn’t try hugging Cris, which he is infinitely grateful for._ _

__"I'm sorry," he whispers_ _

__"I just– I just wish that I knew from the start and never had to–" he can't continue and Toni sits with him long into the night until Cris finally, finally cries because he will never see Gerard’s blue eyes lighting up before they kiss again, and he will never hear his sleepy murmurs-half muffled by the pillows- because Gerard Pique is not a part of his life anymore.  
\---_ _

__As he stands in the dressing room, pulling his socks over his shin guards , then lacing his shoes up, Cris watches Sergio go through his usual pre-game rituals. He remembers the cold January day, a mere week after he left that Sergio showed up at Toni's doorstep. He told Cris that he rejected Gerard. Cris told him not to. Both of them deserve to be happy. Sergio was unsure, but Cris assured him it was fine._ _

__"I'm never going to choose Gerard Pique over you, Cris.” Sergio says, rolling his eyes as though it should be obvious “He wasn't the one who helped me tape my shoes back together, or the one who shared his only sandwich with me when I had nothing in school."_ _

__"But you deserve to be happy," Cris had said, and it had taken all of his willpower to sound unbothered. "And... so does he."_ _

__"Not if it means I’m losing you."_ _

__"You're not going to lose me. I just need time."_ _

__"Can I– can I hug you?"_ _

___Yes. ____ _

____"No. Please just go."_ _ _ _

____Since then, Cris barely talked to either of them beyond what was professionally required. He shouldn’t really feel cold delight snaking down his spine when he sends Gerard sprawling on his ass before scoring right in front of him. He does._ _ _ _

____He forgets about his atrocious love life, moving his focus back to football. He works out, even more than he used to – to the point where Zidane tells him to stop._ _ _ _

____He keeps his focus solely on the game and the amount of goals he will score. Even if he does see Sergio talking to Gerard on the phone as soon as their matches end, he ignores it, because he is in the Champions League Quarterfinals and Barcelona is not. He consoles himself by looking at the articles. Because he is Cristiano Ronaldo, he is in his prime and he is lethal in front of the goal and he is untouchable. None of the best teams in Europe have been able to pin him down and one man with blue eyes certainly won’t be the one to._ _ _ _

____Sergio stayed solid as a rock at the back and they were going to win the Champions League. It was a fact, some news anchor drawled, because Cristiano Ronaldo is in the form of his life and so, Real Madrid is in the form of its life._ _ _ _

____About five months later, Cris scored twice in the Champions League Final, and he roars his triumph like he has something to prove._ _ _ _

_____I can do it without you. I am living without you. I do not need you._ _ _ _ _

______Sergio is racing towards him, and in the heat of the moment and in the intense, overwhelming taste of victory, Cris catches him as he leaps into his arms. Sergio raises his fist to the skies and in that moment they are gods. The sea of white in the stands is screaming, frantic, churning chaos. They are infinite and they bask in the chaos. The rest of their teammates catch up, and they’re all hot and sweaty and caught in an adrenaline high, and everything else is irrelevant._ _ _ _ _ _

______He holds the silver trophy in his hand, and with his other, he holds up five fingers. Five Champions Leagues. Five Champions Leagues for the greatest player to ever step foot on a football pitch. And Gerard Pique is non-existent for the first time in five years._ _ _ _ _ _

______They are celebrating as much as they can before Cris leaves for Italy. For Juventus. The entire team is here, but the Barcelona team caught wind of it and now they're here too._ _ _ _ _ _

______He tries not to look at Sergio and Gerard, swaying on the dance floor, snapping at each other. He doesn’t care much about them anymore. But it’s still strange to see. He doesn't understand their dynamic. Whenever he sees them they're at each other's throats. But they look happy._ _ _ _ _ _

______Toni and Isco go to get more drinks, leaving Cris alone on the sofa, quite unable to stop watching them. Gerard’s hands are around Sergio’s waist, just about the same place they were when he and Cris danced long into the night after their wedding._ _ _ _ _ _

______The sofa jolts as Lionel Messi sits down next to him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Hey" he follows Cris's gaze to where Gerard and Sergio are now arguing._ _ _ _ _ _

______Cris doesn't bother responding. It seems as though it would take too much energy._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I heard about what happened. I'm sorry."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Okay."_ _ _ _ _ _

______And then Gerard glances over. Cris wonders if he looks pitiful. He reaches for Leo’s hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Kiss me."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Leo's eyes flick to Geri, but he does. It's soft, his hands rise to gently thread through Cris's hair, Cris’s hands slipping under Leo's shirt around his waist, and he wonders through his alcohol fogged mind if this was what heaven was._ _ _ _ _ _

______He slides further down on the sofa, Leo climbing on top of him, nipping gently at his lip._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Not here. Upstairs. If you really want to."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Cris doesn't bother to think about it._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes."_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______He doesn't even remember Gerard Pique's existence. Or his blue eyes. Just like that, the only thing that matters are Leo's brown ones._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Are you sure?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes. I want to have fun."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Leo grins._ _ _ _ _ _

______Cris calls him up a few weeks later, unsure of whether he’s sad or upset as he stares at the selfie with Sergio that Gerard just put on his Instagram story._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I want to forget, Leo." He says instead of “hello”._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm tired of hurting, Cris."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"What do you mean?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Nothing." And Leo hangs up and it’s almost as if they’re back in 2013 after the final, calling each other at all odd hours until one day Leo was at his door, smiling almost uncertainly with a football in his hands. 2013, when they would play football in Cris’s lounge. When they broke the TV by accident. And then 2013 where Leo kissed him and Cris told him it was casual. 2013 when he called Leo and said with a wide grin on his face that he was dating Gerard and they couldn’t do this anymore and Leo was never quite the same around him. 2013 where Cris didn’t think too much about why Leo suddenly refused to be in the same room._ _ _ _ _ _

______2013 when Leo wouldn’t answer his calls. Except this time, Cris isn’t going to move on from it._ _ _ _ _ _

______Cris drives six hours all the way to Barcelona. He calls Neymar and asks for Leo's address and shows up at his door, drenched in the rain._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Cris?" Leo gapes at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"What did you mean?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Not now, Cris please."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes, now. There's no other time, Leo!" Cris spreads his arms, water droplets flying everywhere._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm tired of hurting, Cris. I'm tired of being your distraction when I have loved you since that damn final in Manchester!"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gerard once said teasingly that Cris had fallen in love with him in a single day. Cris thought it would take a longer time to dare to fall in love again._ _ _ _ _ _

______He falls again, much faster, it might have been five minutes. Leo’s hands are in his pockets to protect them from the rain, even though he’s starting to get wet too._ _ _ _ _ _

______Cris takes a single step toward him, frantic in his urgency, and pushes Leo's chin up, moving in for a rough kiss that was honestly more of a near head butt, but it conveys everything he needs to and Leo doesn’t seem particularly eager to pull away, and it’s with great reluctance that Cris does._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______"Don't, Cris, please don't do that. Don't just play with–" Leo's voice is cracking, his porcelain skin is damp and his lashes are wet, and he has never looked more perfect._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm not. I'm willing to try if you are."_ _ _ _ _ _

______And this time it’s Leo, rising up on his toes to kiss him. It’s cold, and both of them are drenched to the skin, but Leo is warm and he’s leaning on Cris so he doesn’t slip.Water is running into Cris’s mouth from his hair and it’s not perfect, nothing ever really is, but it’s enough because Leo’s smile is warm and wide as he takes Cris’s hand and leads him into his house._ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> yeah. i feel like the happy ending was forced but i needed a happy ending somewhere. bye. like, comment and subscribe for more mind numbing content. also i need a beta, hi, i will love you forever :)


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